


Hurting Is Good

by Miracult



Category: Original Work
Genre: 18+, M/M, MalexMale, Yandere, fuckboi said he was ready he aint tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:03:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miracult/pseuds/Miracult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lysander and Vincent visit a private beach, and Vincent forgot he had many scars.<br/>-<br/>[Yandere!Lysander x Vincent]<br/>-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You know who you are.  
> You ain't ready.

The worn leather of Lysander's current seat burn through his swimming trunks. Pale finger tugged at the pink drawstrings of his hoodie.

Other than varied tops and swimming trunks, the two in the car were completely bare. Lysander was secretly pleased a the thought, and a soft smile met his lips. Vincent's murky green eyes lingered but a second on the road, frequently switching from the asphalt to the younger male in the passenger seat.

 

"What are you smiling about, Love?"

White hot warmth spread across Lysander's cheeks, a light buzz in his head. "Nothing..." He responded titillatingly. His pearly whites exposed under velvety pink lips, the corners of his mouth climbed higher.

Vincent's jaw twitched at his teasing, his expression turning from curiously to mischievous in a matter of seconds. Using his right hand he softly poked at Lysander's cheeks, eliciting a surprised giggle from him. God he loved that laugh.

 

Vincent turned into the beach's parking way, and with a switch of his wrist he turned to engine off.

"You, are carrying the bag." Lysander sang, hopping out of the vehicle and skipping away, tossing one glance back at Vincent. Said male swallowed and yanked open the backseat door, snatching the supplies bag. Lysander quirked a smirk as he heard Vincent's heavy footstep jog up to him.

He expected Vincent to throw an arm around his shoulder, or at least come into his field of vision. But Vincent hung back. Lysander looked back, catching Vincent's eyes, which were turned down.

 

"Are you?!" Lysander turned around completely, facing Vincent. His hands instinctively held his butt, at which Vincent'd been staring. "Vincent!" Lysander's cheeks burned. 

God he was so obvious.

Vincent chuckled, and as their footsteps echoed from wood into sand, Vincent moved forward. His free hand wrapped around Lysander's petite waist. Lysander immediately snuggled into Vincent, euphoric at the contact.

 

"Ah, sorry about it, Love." vincent snickered, his arm moved down slightly so his hand settled on Lysander's lower hip. His made a face, tilting his head. "Oh, wait," He grinned, revealing naturally sharp canines. "No I'm not!"


	2. Time In The Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey fuckers.

"Well, are we going to the water?" Lysander spoke up behind Vincent. Said older male looked behind him. He blatantly stared, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he admired Lysander's bare torso.

 

Vincent let out a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. Lysander gasped, flushing. "Shh!" Lysander whispered in a high voice. Though he knew he loved it. Oh yeah he loved it. Vincent's eyes were on him, no one else's.

 

Vincent stood. "Well I guess so, it _is_ what we came for." He stretched, holding out his hands. Lysander slipped his hands into Vincent's palms and smiled as he was pulled along the path. As the hot first waves of water washed up around their ankles, Lysander felt a pout express upon his face.

"You know, you're still wearing your over-shirt..." Lysander complained. Vincent let out a bark of laughter. "If you wanted me to strip you could just ask."

 

Oog, Lysander had a hard time debating on asking him if he was serious. "I didn't mean it like that!" He squeaked finally. The tall ravenette chuckled, leaning down and planting a kiss to the top of Lysander's left ear. "Of course you didn't." He mumbled lowly. A shock of heat moved from his ears to his cheeks. Vincent laughed. "If I had a dollar for every time you've gone _red_ today~" He nudged Lysander's shoulder.

"You're going swimming and still have your shirt on~" Lysander chirped back. Vincent then, suddenly, uncharacteristically went silent.

"Vincent...?"

 

He didn't respond.

"It's just a shirt sweetie-"

Vincent inhaled and pulled away. "I don't want to take it off."

Lysander tilted his head. "Why not? Are you afriad of somethin-" 

Vincent moved back faster, movements jerky. "No!" He barked, making Lysander flinch. Vincent felt indignant. He felt defensive, shocked. He would never lash out at Lysander, not in a million years, but, he was backed into a corner.

Heat delirium? Unlikely.

 

Lysander felt hurt. Was he keeping a secret? He wasn't supposed to keep secrets. Not from him. "Why not?" He persisted. Vincent's jaw jerked and without saying anything, he turned and stalked away from Lysander.

 

The pinkette stood stock still in shock.

Vincent walked away from him. He walked. _Away_. From him.

A painfully tight anger swelled in Lysander's chest, and the water sloshed as he bolted off after him.


	3. Hurt

Vincent thumbed his necklace, a harsh glare on his face. Why'd he do that? Walk out on him.

 

Why would he even think that was a good idea? _Something could have happened to him_ , Vincent's jaw clenches at the realization. His heart trips and a surge of energetic panic shoots through his veins. His heart hurts as he turns and traipsed around the damp rocky wall of the beach terrain. 

 

His feet burned on top of the sand, occasional rocks digging into his heels. But he didn't care, he didn't even notice.

It was wonderful, so confusing how Lysander could do this to him. He was halfway across the beach, and he had Vincent in a full-on sprint. His head reeled. Another frustrated growl.

Every passing moment he couldn't spot him drew out more and more anger.  _Why isn't he looking for me too?_ Vincent thought. _He should be looking for me too._

 

But the Pinkette was nowhere in sight, and it drove Vincent up the wall.

 

"Where is he?" Vincent huffed, coming to a halt. His foamy green eyes, now bright and intense, scanned the area. It seemed to stretch on forever and he grit his teeth. The sunset's rays lit up the beach, reflecting off the waves and setting a glow on the sand. Vincent swallowed thickly. Had he been away for that long?

Goddammit, he was so stupid. Walking away, no, storming away. Leaving Lysander, his love, in the water because he wanted Vincent's shirt off.

And fuck if he didn't want to strip for him. But something had stopped Vincent. All of a sudden he didn't want to expose himself. He'd had no problem before; but when they'd made love it was in the dark. Lysander wasn't able to see the scars and imperfections across his back, or the soft claw-lines on his chest, barely visible but still there.

 

They were like a hideous secret, hidden in plain sight.

 

That's why, Vincent figured, he had lashed out. There was nothing he regretted more than himself raising his voice at Lysander.

 

"VINCENT LEROY!"

It was a strangled cry Vincent answered to immediately. 

 

He whirled on his heel and there stood the love of his life, albeit enraged, but still angelic nonetheless.

Oh, but he was enraged. Very much so.

His hair mussed and his cheeks flushed. His bright, powder green eyes were narrowed dangerously. Just from his distance, Vincent could tell he was distraught.

 

He moved towards Lysander in an eager attempt to comfort him. "Lysan-"

 

His head snapped to the side. His cheek simpered with the after heat of Lysander's back hand.

At first, the instinctual anger of the physical assault bubbled treacherously, but it fizzled and inevitably went kaput when Vincet caught the wild look in Lysander's eyes. They were glistening with hot tears, and Lysander's chest heaved with exertion and held back sobs. That's when Vincent _really_ noticed him.

 

His pastel hair was now dark with water, curled and stuck softly around his jaw and the fronts of his ears. That angry flush across his pale cheeks and bare shoulders. The liquid lining his lids, and the lashes above those intense green eyes. Vincent swallowed.

 

 He was so entirely delectable like this. "I'm sorry..."

Lysander stiffened, bottom lip caught under his two front teeth. " **No** , You left me. You **never** leave me, Vincent." He shot back hoarsely.

Vincent had advanced two steps. Lysander stayed his stance. " _You never leave me._ " He whispered, un-clenching his fists to press them against Vincent's shoulders. Vincent let the now cool wind blow across him. No matter how biting it got, he would withstand it so many hours if it meant Lysander would stay. 

 

 _But he would never leave me, of course,_ Vincent scoffed in his mind. _Lysander doesn't get to leave me. He loves me._  

Lysander curled his fingers against Vincent's sleeves. The fabric made for such an annoying barrier. The hot skin underneath was protected by a flimsy wall. Lysander frowned, causing crystalline beads of tears fall. They slipped down his face and Vincent took the one step, the one step it took to close that distance between them and cupped Lysander's face. 

 The smaller male inhaled quickly, the heat of Vincent's presence suddenly so close blurred his focus. And God, did he want him so much more closer.

 "Tell me." he whispered. Vincent's eyes burned and Lysander looked up to meet his gaze. Fistfuls of his shirt and Lysander pulled him closer. "Tell me whats under here."

Vincent let out an airy chuckle. "You know what is under here." 

"Show me what you didn't want me to see."

Vincent's mouth felt dry all of a sudden. There was a plead on his lips, unspoken. Lysander's pale finger traced his territory with a feather light touch, ghosting across and up, until his fingertips met a sharp jawline. Vincent inhaled, his eyelashes fluttering when Lysander's thumbs graced the edges of his lips.

 

"Please."


End file.
